


Taking the Long Way Home

by smarshtastic



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blackwatch Era, Blackwatch Jesse McCree, Blackwatch Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Love Confessions, M/M, Mission Fic, Road Trips, Stranded
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-12 13:27:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11162799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smarshtastic/pseuds/smarshtastic
Summary: Usually, though, Blackwatch has some semblance of backup; today, Strike Commander Morrison decided it isn't worth the diplomatic headache to extract two agents from deep cartel territory. Instead, all Jesse and Gabe have to do is make it to the border - should be a piece of cake for Blackwatch’s finest, right?---In which Jesse and Gabe have to find their own way back home, with only a beat up car, their wits, and each other to get them safely back across the border.





	Taking the Long Way Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fabrega](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabrega/gifts).



> Remember when I said I was stockpiling fic the other day? I wasn't joking. Here's the first of several salt-fueled works I'm going to be sprinkling the tag with for the next few weeks - happy reading! 
> 
> Many, many thanks to World's Best Beta [fabrega](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabrega/), who is not only an incredible editor but also a saint, because I think I dumped ~30k words on her in the span of a couple of days. I literally couldn't have done this without her. 
> 
> You can find me on [tumblr](http://wictorwictor.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/smarshtastic)!

Gabe swears and drops the comm into the cup holder. He closes his eyes, leaning his head back against the headrest of the driver’s seat. Jesse fidgets in the passenger seat without saying anything for several minutes. Gabe doesn’t offer anything, tense and silent, and Jesse can only sit quietly for so long. 

“So,” Jesse says finally, carefully. “We on our own?”

“Yeah,” Gabe says after another lengthy pause. He drops his chin back down to his chest and reaches for the ignition. The engine rolls over but doesn't start. Gabe doesn't hit the steering wheel, but he looks like he wants to. 

“We kinda knew that going into this,” Jesse points out. Gabe shoots Jesse an unamused look. 

“We don't leave agents stranded,” Gabe says darkly. “Not like this. Not without resources.”

“If anyone can get out of this mess, we can,” Jesse says reasonably. After a moment, Gabe lets a breath out, some of the tension going out of his shoulders. 

“You're not wrong,” Gabe says. He tries the ignition again and, this time, the car starts. Jesse hazards a small smile. 

“We’ll figure this out, Gabe,” Jesse says confidently, mostly for Gabe’s benefit. Gabe glances at Jesse briefly then faces forward again, eyes on the road. 

Jesse is right: they knew that they might not have backup coming into this assignment. Overwatch has a rather tenuous relationship with the Mexican government - let alone the various gangs that have a chokehold on the local municipalities - and it was never going to be easy. They aren't supposed to be running operations in Mexico, but the entire purpose of Blackwatch is to go where Overwatch can't. Usually, though, Blackwatch has some semblance of backup; today, Strike Commander Morrison decided it isn't worth the diplomatic headache to extract two agents from deep cartel territory. Instead, all Jesse and Gabe have to do is make it to the border - should be a piece of cake for Blackwatch’s finest, right?

They'll make the best of it. 

They drive in silence for the better part of an hour, Gabe mostly still seething quietly. Jesse lets him stew for a while, having learned a long time ago to tell when Gabe needs a distraction and when he’d rather be left alone. Jesse keeps an ear cocked towards Gabe but keeps his eyes on the endless desert landscape trundling by as the car makes its way along the highway. Finally, Gabe exhales, letting his breath out in a long, slow  _ whoosh _ . Jesse turns back to look at him. 

“We should stop before it gets dark,” Jesse says. Gabe nods curtly. He's still not looking at Jesse, and he's gripping the wheel tight enough for Jesse to see the strain in his knuckles. 

Jesse hesitates. He reaches out and sets a hand over one of Gabe’s, chancing a look at Gabe’s face as he does. He feels Gabe’s grip on the wheel slacken, just a little bit. 

It's still a new thing between them - the intimacy. Jesse had nursed a crush on Gabe for  _ years _ , in spite of his best efforts. He danced around it, doing everything he could to stay in Gabe’s good graces, impress him, convince him that he wasn't some gang banging ex-convict with a bad attitude. It turns out, though, that Gabe didn't need much convincing. He had been doing his own careful dance, maintaining a hard line of propriety to protect himself and Jesse. Gabe should have known - but maybe he did - that Jesse never really got rid of the reckless side of him. There was one night, with beers and a rare moment alone - really  _ alone _ \- when Jesse took the chance to kiss Gabe. And then another time, after a mission and high on adrenaline, that Jesse had dared to kiss him again. And another: a quiet moment on a bad day when Gabe sought him out, and Jesse kissed him after Gabe brought him back from the brink. And another, and another - Gabe kissed him back every time. It became a thing as easily and seamlessly as they had already worked together. Kissing Gabe came as naturally to Jesse as breathing, and was almost as imperative to his survival. Jesse thinks the novelty will never wear off. 

Gabe pulls off the highway on the outskirts of La Paz, where a small motel squats on the side of the road. It's non descript and it looks well-maintained so Gabe parks and Jesse hops out to see about getting a room. Jesse’s Spanish is serviceable - mostly he grew up learning swears and slang - but the woman at the desk is amiable and hands him a set of keys without a fuss or a lot of questions. Jesse trots back to the car, holding up the keys as he gets closer. He leans in through the window to rest his arms on the driver’s side door. 

“Got us a room,” Jesse says. “Let's get some shut eye.”

Gabe nods and reaches to roll up the windows before he shuts off the ignition. Jesse takes a step back, surveying the desert stretching out in all directions along the highway. It's familiar - almost like where he grew up. It doesn't give him much comfort, but at least he knows a thing for two about the desert. He looks back at Gabe to offer him a smile. Gabe still looks pinched, but Jesse notices the way his shoulders relax and drop away from his ears. 

Jesse finds their room and keys them inside. It's small but clean, with two beds and a bathroom. The setting sun is filling the room with an intense orange light: when Jesse glances back at Gabe as he starts his usual security sweep of the room, he sees Gabe practically glowing in the waning light. It makes something catch in Jesse’s throat. 

“All good?” Jesse asks after a moment. Gabe sits down heavily on the edge of one of the beds. 

“Yeah,” Gabe says, rubbing a hand over his face. He looks more than just tired -  _ weary _ , is the word that comes to mind, strung out. The weight of the world is forever on Gabe’s shoulders, and there’s not much Jesse can do to help shoulder the weight. Jesse hesitates and goes to sit next to him. He touches Gabe’s knee. 

“Want me to go find something to eat?”

Gabe looks up at Jesse, but doesn’t move his leg out from under Jesse’s hand. “I’m okay. If you need something -”

“I'm okay,” Jesse says. Gabe breathes out. 

“We should get some sleep,” Gabe says. 

“Probably,” Jesse says. “Still gotta ways to go.”

Gabe makes a small frustrated noise. Jesse squeezes his knee. 

“Hey,” Jesse says, gently, voice low. “This ain't nearly as bad as we've had. I bet we even got hot water.”

Gabe lifts his head to look at Jesse. His expression is, as usual, all but unreadable. Jesse offers him a small smile. 

“Think of it like a road trip,” Jesse says. “We got, what, another sixteen, seventeen hours on the road?”

“Something like that,” Gabe says, the corner of his mouth twitching up in spite of himself. Jesse’s own smile widens. 

“We’ll make the best of it,” Jesse says, a determined note to his voice. “Drag it out. See the sights, eat the local cuisine, charge it all back to Morrison. It can't be that bad, right?”

Gabe lets out a little reluctant laugh - like it takes him by surprise. He reaches up and cups Jesse’s cheek, turning his head so that he can press a small, soft kiss to Jesse’s mouth. Jesse feels a thrill go down his spine - it still surprises him when Gabe reciprocates, even though maybe it shouldn't. Jesse smiles against Gabe’s lips and kisses him back. Gabe pulls away first. 

“We'll make the best of it,” Gabe echoes. 

“That's the spirit,” Jesse says, still smiling. “You wanna see about that hot water? Wash this stupid mission off?”

“Not a bad idea,” Gabe says, standing. He starts to the bathroom, pulling off his shirt as he goes. Jesse watches him disappear into the bathroom, eyes lingering on Gabe’s bare back. After a moment, he hears the water turn on. Jesse flops back onto the bed, letting his breath out as he catalogues the aches and bruises from their operation. It's not so bad, all things considered; nothing major, and the mission went off without a hitch, more or less. He's tired, sure, but he can't let that win out just yet. They still have a long way to go before they get to the border. 

“Are you going to join me or not?” Gabe’s voice asks from the bathroom. Jesse perks up. He pushes himself back up onto his elbows. 

“Really?”

“The water’s hot.”

Jesse scrambles up, kicking off his boots as he goes. Just inside the bathroom door, shirt off, Jesse pauses. Gabe looks over at Jesse expectantly through the glass door. The water has already plastered his curls across his forehead, steam curling around his body and fogging the glass. Jesse strips off the rest of his clothes and then steps into the shower behind Gabe, careful not to crowd him. 

“It's bigger than yours at the base,” Jesse comments. Gabe snorts, half-turning to look at Jesse over his shoulder. 

“That's not hard,” Gabe says. Jesse lets out a little laugh. He drops a kiss to Gabe’s shoulder and is delighted when Gabe relaxes back into it. Jesse does it again simply because he can. Gabe makes a small pleased noise. 

“See?” Jesse murmurs, touching his hip and pressing more kisses along Gabe’s shoulders, following the trail of freckles dusting his skin. “It's gonna be good.”

Gabe shakes his head a little but doesn't say anything. Jesse wonders if he pushed it too far, but there isn’t any more tension in Gabe’s shoulders. Without moving out of Jesse’s grip, he reaches for the soap to lather up. 

For Jesse, being close like this is the best part of their newfound intimacy. They spent years side by side, working and fighting and even spending their limited off-duty time together. Jesse ached to be close to Gabe for years - more than the bump of their shoulders as they walked the halls of Overwatch’s various bases, the touch of their knees when they sat next to each other on the transport shuttles. Now, he can be close to Gabe, closer than he could’ve ever hoped. He's greedy for it, too - he'll take every opportunity to touch and kiss and hold Gabe. He's a little scared that if he doesn't take every chance he can get, Gabe will change his mind, lose interest, push him away. So far, that hasn't been the case. But it's still a worry, ever present in the back of Jesse’s mind. So, while he still can, he takes every opportunity to be close to Gabe, touch him, kiss him. 

They move around each other, their limbs brushing against each other but mostly focused on getting themselves clean, letting the hot water and the astringent soap wash the mission grime away. Gabe’s hand catches Jesse by the hip. It takes Jesse by surprise - he half-turns to look at him, a question in his eyes. Gabe’s fingers trace the bruise that’s blossomed over Jesse’s ribs. His touch is light, gentle, concerned.  

“Okay?” Gabe asks, brow furrowed. Jesse’s expression melts into a soft smile. 

“Yeah,” Jesse says. “It's alright.”

Gabe flattens his palm against Jesse’s rib cage. His hand is warm and heavy - it’s comforting. Jesse leans into it. He feels safe here, like this. 

Eventually, Gabe reaches around him and shuts off the water. There's some scratchy towels hanging by the shower that they use to dry themselves off. Jesse shuffles out of the bathroom ahead of Gabe, picking at the thick makeup still covering the tattoo on his left forearm. He flops onto one of the beds and lets the towel fall away as he peels back a corner of the thick layer of silicon and makeup. 

“Don't pick at it,” Gabe says, coming out of the bathroom with his towel around his waist and his clothes folded neatly in his arms. Jesse makes a face at him but does drop his hand. 

“It bothers me,” Jesse says. Gabe rolls his eyes and sets his clothes down on the foot of the other bed. He shimmies into his underwear and, ever so casually, lies down next to Jesse. Jesse turns his head to look at him. Gabe meets his eyes. 

“Is this okay?” Gabe asks. Jesse doesn't say anything, just scoots over to tuck himself into Gabe’s arms. He feels Gabe smile into his damp hair. It feels like home. Jesse closes his eyes for a moment. 

“So,” Gabe says after a while. Jesse tips his head up to look at Gabe. “We should probably hit the road early.”

“Early? Don't you want to rack up the expense report?” 

Gabe doesn't say anything immediately. Jesse rolls himself out of Gabe’s arms to look him in the eye again. 

“We’re gonna treat it like a kind of vacation, remember?” Jesse says. He taps Gabe’s chest. “You  _ never _ take time off.”

“Not much room to,” Gabe says gruffly. 

“Well, we’re still technically working. So you don't gotta worry about it. At least sleep in a little tomorrow,” Jesse says, doing his best to be charming. Gabe scrunches his face up then lets out a breath. 

“I guess I could sleep in,” Gabe relents. Jesse beams. Gabe wags a finger at him, trying to pretend like it isn’t as easy for Jesse to win him over as much as it is. “But we can't dawdle too much.”

“No dawdling,” Jesse agrees. “We’re still on Morrison’s dime and we’ll get an old fashioned dressing down from him if we push it too far. So - Just a leisurely pace.”

Gabe huffs out a little laugh and draws Jesse back into his arms. Jesse shifts around until he can press his ear against Gabe’s chest, where he can hear the regular beat of his heart. It’s soothing. Jesse closes his eyes, letting the steady rhythm lull him to sleep. 

Jesse wakes, safe and warm, just before sunrise the next morning. It takes him a moment to process that it’s  _ Gabe’s _ arm draped around his waist, Gabe’s face pressed into his neck, Gabe’s facial hair tickling his skin with each exhale. Jesse does his best not to squirm. It’s actually quite pleasant - it’s such a novel way to wake up, he isn’t even annoyed at the early hour. He squints at the first light starting to peek through the window. He feels Gabe shift against him, a low noise rumbling through his chest. 

“Thought we were sleeping in,” Gabe says, breath warm on Jesse’s neck. Jesse blinks, then chuckles, tilting his head down to press a kiss to the top of Gabe’s head, burying his nose in his messy curls.  

“I ain’t gettin’ up any time soon,” Jesse says. Gabe makes that low, rumbly noise again then tilts his head up to catch Jesse’s mouth in a kiss. Jesse exhales in a surprised little  _ oh _ . Gabe pulls back just a little. 

“Okay?”

“Yeah - definitely,” Jesse says, leaning back in to kiss him again. “Could get used to waking up like this.”

Gabe chuckles against Jesse’s lips. He kisses Jesse lazily, slowly, as if he’s savoring it. It’s an entirely new experience for them: usually they don’t get much more than stolen kisses, hurried out of fear for being interrupted. Now, however, there’s nobody to walk in on them, no reason to rush it. Gabe’s hands slide up to cup Jesse’s face and Jesse suddenly realizes that they’ve never had a moment to themselves like this before. It’s scary and exciting all at once, and Jesse wants to capitalize on it. 

Jesse wiggles closer to Gabe, tangling his legs with Gabe’s and tilting his head into his kisses. He lets his hands run down Gabe’s back, fingers tripping over scars that he knows by sight, but not by touch. He maps them out with the tips of his fingers, following each dip and pucker of skin. He feels Gabe tense a little under his hands, his breath catching between them. Jesse flattens his hands against the small of Gabe’s back. 

“Okay?” Jesse asks against Gabe’s lips. Gabe pauses then nods. 

“Yeah - I’m okay,” Gabe says. 

“Y’want me to stop?”

“No,” Gabe says clearly. He kisses Jesse again, bringing his face to his own to kiss him deeply. Jesse keeps his hands on the small of Gabe’s back. He pulls him in, pressing his body along the length of Gabe’s. They fit together so easily, so seamlessly, so  _ perfectly _ . Jesse can’t help but wonder if it’s more than just his imagination. 

Gabe’s mouth is making its way down Jesse’s neck. His hands press Jesse’s down to the bed and he shifts his body to cover Jesse’s. Jesse’s not a small man - he’s actually roughly the same size as Gabe these days - but Gabe’s weight always surprises him; Gabe is all dense, SEP-built muscle. It makes him solid, heavy, unmovable. Jesse loves the weight of him over his own body - he feels safe there. He tips his head back so Gabe can get at his neck and collarbone. Gabe presses warm, soft kisses into his skin. His breath tickles the hair on Jesse’s chest, making him squirm. Gabe picks up his head.

“Are you ticklish?” he asks, incredulously. Jesse scrunches up his face. 

“I’ll break your hand if you try,” Jesse warns. Gabe laughs. He drops a kiss to Jesse’s sternum.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Gabe says. He rests his chin on Jesse’s chest, face open, eyes soft. The pink morning sun is falling on his face, making him look like he’s glowing again. Jesse smiles down at him, lifting a hand to stroke through Gabe’s hair. Gabe leans into the touch.

“Why’d you stop?” Jesse asks. 

“Just enjoying the view,” Gabe says. Jesse makes a little pleased noise, scrunching his face even as he feels the warmth spread into his cheeks. 

“We’re supposed to be sleeping in,” Jesse mumbles. Gabe drops another kiss to Jesse’s sternum. 

“I think this counts,” Gabe says. He shifts down, dropping more kisses over Jesse’s chest and stomach. Jesse lets out a small laugh, not much more than a chuckle in the back of his throat. 

“If you say so,” Jesse says, stroking one hand through Gabe’s hair as he moves lower, letting his eyes slide closed again. Gabe kisses the bruise on the side of Jesse’s ribs - he can feel the slight ache under Gabe’s mouth - and then his lips find the broad scar across Jesse’s side. It’s from a knife wound on a recent mission; the target dug the serrated knife into Jesse, just barely missing his vital organs. Jesse remembers waking up in the infirmary with Gabe standing over him, hands clasped behind his back, expression pinched and worried, but he didn’t reach out to touch him, comfort him. They weren’t quite there yet - even though, as it turns out, they both wanted it.  

Now, however, Gabe’s mustache grazes over the tender, new skin. His lips are warm, gentle. His hands settle on either of Jesse’s hips, thumbs resting in the dip between bone and muscle. He keeps kissing over Jesse’s stomach, pressing his nose into the hair leading down from his belly button. Gabe pauses. 

“Awfully presumptuous, don’t you think?”

“Hm?” Jesse picks up his head to look at him. Gabe taps Jesse’s naked hip. 

“When did you take off your underwear?”

Jesse blinks. “You didn’t seem to mind last night.” 

“What?”

“I went to sleep like this.”

Gabe blinks back at him. Jesse hazards a smile. Gabe blinks again then snorts, pressing his face into Jesse’s thigh. 

“I don’t know what I expected,” Gabe says, muffled. Jesse reaches down and tugs on Gabe’s curls gently. 

“I thought that was why you came to lie down with me,” Jesse says. 

“I just wanted to sleep with you,” Gabe says, picking up his head again. 

“Right, that’s what I’m saying.”

“No - just… Next to you,” Gabe says. There’s color rising in Gabe’s cheeks and Jesse is absolutely delighted. He sits up to pull Gabe in for a kiss. 

“Cuddlesome bastard,” Jesse says right up against Gabe’s mouth. He feels Gabe make a face. 

“No, I'm very mean and scary,” Gabe says. 

“Uh huh. So scary.”

Gabe growls a little in the back of his throat and suddenly pins Jesse’s arms over his head. The movement takes Jesse by surprise. He lets out a gasp, eyes going bright. 

“Is that gonna be how it is?” Jesse asks. Gabe nips at his mouth. 

“That's gonna be how it is,” Gabe says. He keeps Jesse’s arms pinned over his head with one hand wrapped around his wrists, and it really shouldn't turn Jesse on as much as it does, but the weight of Gabe pressing him into the mattress is  _ doing _ things to him. Gabe’s mouth latches onto Jesse’s neck, sucking a mark into the skin just above his collar bone. 

“That’s gonna leave a mark -” Jesse protests half-heartedly, his voice going practically breathy. 

“You’re already covered in bruises,” Gabe says, doing it again. Jesse squirms, tugging at Gabe’s grip, but he's strong - and Jesse doesn't really want to wiggle free anyway. Gabe presses his hips down against Jesse’s, dragging his covered dick over Jesse’s bare one. 

“Tease,” Jesse breathes, tilting his hips up. Gabe lifts his head to look at Jesse incredulously. 

“ _ I’m  _ the tease?” Gabe asks, rolling his hips against Jesse’s. 

“Ah - yeah. Definitely,” Jesse says. He shifts as much as Gabe will let him so that he can get the right kind of friction on his erection. Gabe pushes his underwear down so his dick springs free. 

“You got that wrong,” Gabe breathes into Jesse’s neck. His cock lines up against Jesse’s and he drags it slowly along the length of it. Jesse arches into it. 

“I can't do nothing about this now,” Jesse says, voice catching as Gabe ruts against him again. Gabe doesn't say anything but reaches with his free hand between them to circle both of their erections. It almost works - Gabe’s hands are big, but not quite big enough for both of them. Jesse presses his hips up for more and Gabe takes the cue; he strokes them together, going for quick and dirty. Jesse moans. “Slow - slow down.”

Gabe stops completely, letting go of Jesse’s dick and wrists as he backs off. Jesse whines at the loss. 

“No - don't  _ stop _ . Just, you know, slower,” Jesse says, reaching up to pull Gabe back down. “Take our time, remember?”

Gabe blinks, then nods. He lets Jesse tug him back down. Jesse kisses him deeply, languorously until they're both panting. He rolls his hips against Gabe’s, his cock dragging over his muscled thigh. The friction feels good so he does it again. He finds Gabe’s hand and moves it between them. Gabe's fingers skate over Jesse’s stomach before he wraps his hand around his cock. Gabe focuses all his attention on Jesse. He strokes him slowly, running his thumb over the tip of him, taking his time, just like Jesse asked. Very slowly. Jesse sort of regrets it now; Gabe's teasing him again, but with purpose. Gabe’s strong hands are mapping out every vein and ridge, callouses scraping lightly against sensitive skin, his grip just firm enough to make Jesse’s breathing come quicker. Jesse tries to lift his hips up, only to have Gabe press him down firmly to the bed. He doesn't stand a chance against Gabe’s superior strength, even if he did want to get away. Gabe leans back enough to look down at his hand around Jesse’s cock. His brow furrows with concentration as he strokes him, watching every movement of his fingers, every twitch of Jesse’s dick. Jesse feels exposed, vulnerable. 

“Gabe -” he starts to say between pants. Gabe’s gaze flicks up to Jesse’s face. Jesse bites his lip then nods. “More?”

Gabe leans back down to kiss Jesse deeply. He doesn't move any faster, but more firmly, drawing it out, making Jesse’s toes curl and pull up the sheets. Jesse feels himself leaking steadily into Gabe’s hand, leaving a trail on his palm. Gabe envelops him, surrounds him, his warm weight keeping Jesse all but pinned to the bed, his breath hot in Jesse’s ear. He's grinding against Jesse’s thigh, dragging his erection over his leg in time with the strokes of his hand. Jesse clings to Gabe, pulling him closer, wanting more, murmuring Gabe’s name over and over. He tips his head back as Gabe’s mouth finds his neck again, moaning when Gabe’s teeth mark his skin, arching into it. He comes, sticky and hot between them, as Gabe lavished his tongue over the new mark. Gabe spills onto Jesse’s thigh a moment later, face pressed into the crook of Jesse’s neck. 

They stay like that for a few minutes, clinging to each other, breathing hard. Gabe moves first. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs, starting to peel himself away. Jesse catches him and drags him back in for a kiss. 

“Nothing to apologize for,” Jesse says. He presses small kisses over Gabe’s lips and jaw, just because he can. It's starting to become his new favorite thing. He feels Gabe relax into it. 

“Made a mess,” Gabe says. He tilts his head to the side, letting Jesse kiss his neck. 

“We can have another shower,” Jesse says against his throat. “Get us cleaned up real good.”

Gabe chuckles. He lets Jesse drag him into the shower again, lets Jesse press him against the shower wall, lets Jesse use his tongue to clean him off as the water falls on both their heads. 

=-=-=

Eventually, they make it back out onto the road. It's a bright, hot day, hotter than the day before - the noon sun already making the haze rise on the highway as Gabe and Jesse head north. Jesse sits loose-limbed in the front seat, window down, hair whipping in the dry wind, still picking idly at the coverup on his forearm. Gabe glances at him. 

“Stop picking at it,” Gabe says for at least the fifth time.

“It's coming off.”

“Because you're picking at it.”

“It  _ itches _ ,” Jesse says. Gabe heaves an exaggerated sigh. 

“Just take it off, then,” Gabe says. Jesse does so immediately, peeling back the thick layer of makeup and wincing a little when the edges catch on the hair on his forearm. He crumples the film and flattens his palm over his newly exposed tattoo, rubbing at the red and irritated skin along the edges. Gabe glances at him again. “Have you mentioned that to Angela?”

“Mentioned what?” Jesse asks. Gabe nods to Jesse’s reddened arm. Jesse makes a face. “Oh - nah. It's not that bad.”

“If it's an allergy, there's stuff we can do,” Gabe says.

Jesse makes a face again. “I dunno. It's fine. I’ve had worse. It’s better now that it’s off.”

“There’s no reason to suffer,” Gabe says, voice going soft. 

“It’s not a thing, Gabe,” Jesse says. He leans forward and fiddles with the stereo to hide his embarrassment. He’s not used to  _ this _ yet either - Gabe being gentle with him,  _ caring _ about him. Gabe always took enormous care with the Blackwatch squad, but this is different. Maybe he's always had a soft spot for him, Jesse can't be sure. Gabe is a consummate professional. But when they sat down and agreed to give this a go, something changed. Jesse never really had a relationship like this - aside from the brief fling with Shiga, maybe - and being with Gabe feels so distinct from anything he’s ever had before. For once in his life, Jesse feels safe. 

Gabe sits back, letting Jesse flip through the stations on the radio while the desert rolls past the car. Jesse settles on some upbeat pop music, the least staticky of their available options. He rolls down the window further for more air, the hot, dry wind ruffling his hair. He's too tall to put his feet up on the dashboard, but he wants to. Jesse glances back at Gabe but doesn't have anything to say. The music fills the space between them. It's comfortable, really. Still, Jesse feels like he should fill the silence. 

“We used to make border crossings in Deadlock,” Jesse says, drumming his fingers on the open windowsill. He feels his stomach rumble and realizes he hasn't eaten. When was the last time they ate? Sometime during the mission, probably. He can’t remember. He shifts in his seat. 

“Yeah?” Gabe asks. 

“Yeah. Easier to fence weapons that way,” Jesse says. His stomach rumbles again, but he hopes it's muffled by the radio. “Less eyes on us. More amenable buyers.”

“Makes sense,” Gabe says, glancing at Jesse. 

“Lots more gangs though,” Jesse says. “I mean, you know. Dangerous. There were a few times…”

Jesse trails off, realizing suddenly that he talked himself into a topic that he didn't actually want to expand on. His stomach takes the opportunity to rumble again. 

“We didn't eat breakfast,” Gabe says casually. A crease appears between his eyebrows - Jesse’s starting to learn how to tell the concerned frown from a displeased one. 

“We kinda got distracted,” Jesse says. “I'm alright. We don't need to stop.”

Gabe gestures vaguely at the empty desert around them. 

“Not much to stop for at the moment,” Gabe says. His voice goes light, teasing. “Pretty sure cactus doesn't make a good meal.”

“Depends how you cook it,” Jesse says with a laugh. He relaxes back into his seat, turning his head against the headrest to smile at Gabe. 

“If we see anything, we’ll stop, how's that sound?”

“Alright,” Jesse agrees. “But no crazy detours.”

“Alright,” Gabe nods. Jesse readjusts himself in his seat, stretching his legs as far out as he can. He turns his attention back to the desert outside the window, endless and empty. There's hardly any other cars on the road. The sun rises higher in the sky and the haze on the horizon rises from the road. Jesse shifts, tugging on the collar of his shirt a little. The dry wind isn’t doing much to keep him cool. He glances at Gabe, who - in spite of the drama of the day before - looks surprisingly relaxed. Jesse reaches out and puts his hand over Gabe’s on the gear shift. He feels his hand stiffen under his palm. He looks at Gabe. Gabe meets his eye, eyebrows raised. Jesse holds his breath. After a moment, Gabe laces his fingers with Jesse’s. Jesse can't help the smile that spreads over his face. Gabe squeezes his hand and Jesse has the fleeting thought that he wishes they won't have to go back to Overwatch. It's ridiculous, of course, but they don't get the chance to be so open about these sorts of things when they're surrounded by people who aren't supposed to know about their relationship. It's against fraternization rules, for one thing. It's so rare that they're alone like this - not being watched, monitored - it's an opportunity to figure out… more of what they're about. So Jesse squeezes Gabe’s hand back. It’s a little nuts how quickly he’s gotten used to this. Jesse tries not to think about that. 

They drive for an hour, two hours, three. Miles and miles of empty desert pass them by, hardly anything breaking up the landscape. Baja California Sur doesn’t have a whole lot worth mentioning these days. Jesse tries not to think about how hungry he is - he's gone much longer without eating before, when did he get so  _ soft _ ? - but his stomach keeps loudly reminding him. 

“Sorry,” Gabe says at one point. Jesse looks at him, perplexed. 

“For what?”

“I keep hearing your stomach -”

“Oh, jeeze. Don't. It's not your fault we're in the middle of fuckin’ nowhere,” Jesse says dismissively. He squeezes Gabe’s hand. “Plus, I've had worse.”

Gabe squeezes back after a moment. “No need to suffer.”

“I ain't. I'm kinda enjoying myself, even.”

Gabe looks at him this time, eyebrows raised. “You are?”

“Yeah, definitely.”

“We're basically stranded.”

“Yeah, but at least we're together,” Jesse says. He stops, the flush creeping into his cheeks. He turns his gaze out the window. “I mean - you know. It's not like we're in any immediate danger. And we’re well on our way. Only dawdling a little. Morrison can’t be all that mad.” 

Gabe tugs on his hand a little, making Jesse turn back to look at him. 

“I'm glad we're together,” Gabe says. Jesse blinks. 

“Really?” he asks, even though he's mostly pretty sure it's a stupid question. Gabe nods. 

“Really.”

Jesse considers this. 

“We never really get a chance to be alone, huh?”

“It's a nice change,” Gabe says, nodding. 

“Well,” Jesse says. He can't keep the pleased look off of his face. “I'm glad too, then.” 

“Look,” Gabe gestures down the road with a nod of his head. There's a little rest stop rising out of the desert - a charge station and what looks like a convenience store. “Want to stop?” 

“Definitely.”

A few minutes later, Gabe pulls up to the charge station and plugs in the car. They had plenty of charge left, but there's no harm in topping off. Jesse heads into the store while Gabe is plugging in the car. 

There's a few people in the store, mostly loitering around the register, trying to catch a wisp of the breeze being generated by the old ceiling fan overhead. Tinny music plays over store’s speakers, slightly muffled. It's not a very big store; one cooler, one freezer, a few shelves of snack foods. There is a display case of what looks like fresh bread - that's where Jesse heads first. He can already feel his stomach rumbling again. 

The three men by the register don't move when Jesse comes in, but they follow his progress around the little store with their eyes. Jesse keeps an eye on them as well, though they seem mostly harmless. He ends up laden down with what looks like half their stock when Gabe finally joins him. 

“Can you grab a couple of those?” Jesse says, nodding to the glass bottles of hibiscus Jarritos in the cooler. “I think they've got agua fresca up front, but if the rest of the drive’s gonna be like this, we're gonna need to stock up.”

Gabe eyes the junk food in Jesse’s arms as he reaches for the soda. 

“At some point we're going to need to eat a vegetable,” Gabe says. Jesse rolls his eyes. 

“You can go chew on some cactus if you really want to. I hear the sage is real tasty too,” Jesse says. Gabe snorts. 

“We’ll find some real food later,” Gabe promises. “Got everything you want?”

“Just about.”

Jesse trots up to the register and dumps his haul onto the counter. The three men shift slightly out of the way. Jesse nods to them amicably as he points to the barrel of agua fresca. Gabe reaches around him to set the bottles of soda on the counter while the cashier pours out two big cups of agua fresca. Jesse’s mouth is practically watering by the time he shells out his pesos and the cashier hands him the paper bag full of baked goods and junk food. Gabe picks up both cups of agua fresca. 

“Ready?” Gabe asks. Jesse nods enthusiastically and follows him back out to the car. By the time Gabe unplugs the car and slides into the driver’s seat, Jesse is already halfway through his second pan dulce. It’s light and sweet and practically melts on his tongue. He has a fleeting memory of riding in the back of a Deadlock truck, sharing a pan dulce with a boy about his age with sandy blond hair, but Jesse pushes it out of his mind. No need to ruin a perfectly nice afternoon with bad memories. 

“Y’ want one?” Jesse says around a mouthful of bread. 

“Only if you have one to spare,” Gabe says, pulling back onto the highway. Jesse digs around in his bag and holds another one out. 

“Happy to share with you, Gabe,” Jesse says. Gabe smiles a little, taking the proffered bread. “Anyway, there’s plenty to go around.”

“Sometimes I worry you wouldn’t take care of yourself if I wasn’t around to nag you,” Gabe says. Jesse swallows his bite. 

“I might do alright,” Jesse says. 

“Mm,” Gabe hums, chewing and swallowing before he goes on. “Such confidence.”

Jesse scrunches up his face. “You’re just gonna have to make sure I do, then.”

“What a burden.”

Gabe smiles at Jesse. There’s sugar on his lips. Jesse leans over and kisses it away. To Gabe’s credit, the car only swerves a little bit. He swats Jesse gently, but only after Jesse starts to pull away. 

“Careful,” Gabe says without venom. 

“I got confidence in your driving skills,” Jesse says. 

“You’re very distracting.”

“I could be  _ more _ distracting,” Jesse points out. Gabe laughs, shaking his head. 

“Eat your bread, Jesse.”

Jesse laughs. He wiggles back in his seat, working through his pan dulces and washing them down with sweet agua fresca. The sun is warm on his face, the breeze through the window keeping him mostly cool. Gabe hums along to the music on the radio. Relaxed and his stomach full, Jesse lets himself drift off to sleep. 

Jesse wakes up as the car slows down. He peels an eye open and sits up a little better to see why Gabe is stopping. 

“Wassat?” Jesse mumbles, dragging a hand over his eyes to rub the sleep out of them. He squints out of the window. The desert hills have given way to a strip of coast. Jesse can see the water peeking up beyond the edge of the highway.

“Bathroom stop,” Gabe says apologetically. He gestures to his empty cup of agua fresca. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“There’s a beach there,” Jesse says, pointing. “Can we stop?”

“We’re already stopping -”

“At the beach, I mean.”

“At this rate, we’re never going to get home,” Gabe says, but there’s only fondness in his voice. Jesse looks back at Gabe with a smile. 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Jesse says. 

“Jack will come looking for us, probably. At some point.”

“We could just run away together,” Jesse says, mostly joking but also not. It surprises him a little to find how much he isn’t  _ really _ joking when he says that. He tucks that thought away for now. “Retire on the beach.”

“You’re too young to retire,” Gabe says, but he’s already pulling into the little parking area where another car is parked alongside an RV. There’s a handful of palapas dotting the narrow strip of beach. The water is a vibrant blue-green and looks extraordinarily calm. 

“Let’s at least dip our toes in the Pacific,” Jesse says. 

“It’s the Gulf of California,” Gabe replies. “And I’m already stopping. Let’s stretch our legs.”

Jesse slides out of the car as soon as Gabe kills the engine. He stretches his fingers up to the sky, which is glowing an orange-pink as the sun sets over the highway behind them. He toes off his boots and leaves them next to the car while Gabe makes his way to a slightly more private patch of brambles. 

At the edge of the water, Jesse pauses. It’s shallow and clear; it looks like he could walk all the way to the little island across the water from his spot on the beach without going deeper than his knees. He steps into the shallows. It’s warm. Jesse closes his eyes, tilting his head back to let the waning sun warm his face. He imagines retiring on a beach with Gabe, spending their days tangled in each other’s arms, sun-kissed and happy. It makes something ache in Jesse’s chest. 

A hand slides over his hip, startling Jesse out of his reverie. 

“Sorry,” Gabe says, dropping a kiss to Jesse’s shoulder. Jesse half-turns to smile at him. 

“It’s okay,” Jesse says. He leans back in Gabe’s arms. “It’s nice, huh?”

“Yeah,” Gabe says. He wraps both arms around Jesse, pulling him back against his chest, resting his chin on his shoulder. “Not a bad place to retire, I guess.”

Jesse feels something go soaring in his chest. “Might need a hammock or something, at least.”

“At least.”

Jesse smiles, relaxing into Gabe’s embrace. It’s nice to think about, even though he’s pretty sure it’ll never happen. 

The sun has set by the time they make their way back to the car. Night falls quickly in these parts, and they’d rather not be out on the road too late, if they can help it. Jesse volunteers to drive. 

“I won’t do anything crazy,” Jesse promises. Gabe eyes him warily. 

“I know how you drive.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die, Gabe. I’ll get us home safe.”

Gabe relents and slides into the passenger seat. He makes a show of buckling himself in. Jesse rolls his eyes fondly, revving the engine for effect once he manages to get it to turn over. 

The highway twists and turns through the coastal hills. It’s dark with no streetlights, so Jesse is careful, even though he tends to err on the side of “still too fast” for Gabe’s liking. Gabe doesn’t make any comments, though. He laces his fingers with Jesse’s over the stick and helps himself to some of Jesse’s snacks while they wind their way inland. 

It’s a little over an hour before they find a place to stop; a sign advertising a bed and breakfast just off the side of the highway in San Ignacio on the edge of the nature preserve. It turns out to be run by an elderly Canadian couple who tired of the endless winters and retired in the south. They park, hop out and book themselves a room - which turns out to be more of a yurt than an actual room. It at least has a private bathroom and a surprisingly large bed. Gabe showers while Jesse makes himself at home on the bed, letting himself sink into the blankets. 

“Don’t get sand in the bed,” Gabe calls from the bathroom. Jesse picks up his head and looks down at his feet. He wiggles his toes. 

“I ain’t!”

“You better not be.”

Jesse gets up to stick his head into the bathroom. “Is this a ploy to get me into the shower with you?”

“Is it working?” Gabe asks, practically coy. Jesse laughs. 

It really does feel more like a vacation than a protracted extraction effort. By the time they run out of hot water, Jesse is relaxed and flushed. Gabe can’t seem to keep his hands off him, fingers skating over Jesse’s clean skin. They fall onto the bed together, letting their towels fall away, kissing each other hotly, letting their bodies warm to each other and the desert air. Jesse ruts against Gabe’s thigh, needy, his erection catching on Gabe’s hip. 

“Insatiable,” Gabe says against Jesse’s mouth. He nips at his lip. 

“Complainin’?” Jesse asks. Gabe’s hand circles Jesse’s cock. 

“Not at all,” Gabe says. Jesse arches into his hand. He loves the way Gabe strokes him, the way his callouses hit all the right spots on his dick, how his thumb presses into the tip of him and smears his precome down over the crest. He mouths at Gabe’s neck. 

“Shoulda brought lube,” Jesse breathes. Gabe snorts. 

“Wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Gabe says. He twists his wrist on the upstroke and Jesse cries out, his hands flying up to drag Gabe closer. 

“‘S’good though - Gabe, fuck -”

Gabe catches Jesse’s mouth with his own, sweeping his tongue hotly between Jesse’s lips. He rolls them so he can spoon up behind Jesse, his own cock sliding up against Jesse’s ass. Jesse cants his hips back and rocks with Gabe’s rhythm, doing his best to get Gabe off too. It’s hard to concentrate on that, though, when Gabe’s able fingers are playing him like a fiddle. Jesse lets his eyes go heavy-lidded and half-closed, his head tipped back, Gabe’s breath hot on his neck. He’s leaking into Gabe’s palm, his orgasm already coiling between his legs. 

“Gabe - Gabe - Gabe - !”

Jesse arches and comes into Gabe’s hand. He twitches, hips stuttering against Gabe’s own. He shifts a little to feel the thick press of Gabe’s dick against his ass. It makes him shudder. Gabe presses kisses along Jesse’s shoulders. 

“Good?” he asks. Jesse turns in his arms, still trying to catch his breath. 

“Real good.”

Gabe cleans them both off with one of the towels before he drops it over the side. Jesse pins Gabe to the bed once he comes back up and lies back on the bed. He kisses down Gabe’s chest, feeling Gabe’s hand slide into his hair, and takes Gabe’s dick into his mouth. Gabe makes a pleased noise above him. Jesse lifts his eyes to look at him, lips stretched around his cock. Gabe meets his look and nods, mouth hanging slightly open and breathing hard. Jesse loves that he can get Gabe to this point; Gabe practically doesn’t have to try to get Jesse riled up, and it’s gratifying to know that Jesse has the same effect on Gabe. Jesse smiles around his cock and then loosens his jaw, doing his best to take him down as far as he can, tonguing along the underside, sucking at the tip and plunging back down. Gabe’s hand clenches in Jesse’s hair. 

“Jesse,” Gabe murmurs between panting breaths. He tugs on Jesse’s hair a little, making him moan around his dick. Jesse kind of likes it - really does, actually. He slides his mouth down as far as he can go, pressing his fingers into Gabe’s thighs. Gabe arches up, a moan falling from his lips, and then he twitches on Jesse’s tongue, coming down his throat. Jesse pulls off with a wet pop, licking his lips as he moves back up to tuck himself into Gabe’s side. Gabe catches him before he does, pulling him in for a deep kiss. He lets go of Jesse but doesn’t let him go too far. Jesse settles in, listening to Gabe’s breathing even out. 

“You ever think about it?” Jesse asks after a few long, lazy minutes. 

“Mm?”

“Retiring,” Jesse says. He feels the muscles in Gabe’s arms stiffen. “Doing something else?”

“Not really,” Gabe says finally. 

“Oh.”

“You?”

“Me? Nah.”

They both go quiet, neither of them exactly relaxed, neither of them doing much more than breathing. Jesse doesn’t know what to say - it’s not like he ever thought seriously about the future. He figured he’d never get a future, that he’d either die in Deadlock or rot in jail. Instead, Overwatch came along,  _ Gabe _ came along, and suddenly Jesse can almost start to put together the pieces of a possible life, a possible future. When Jesse started imagining a potential future, Gabe almost always featured heavily in every scenario - especially after they got together. It wasn’t a question for Jesse, even if it was premature. He wouldn’t want a future if it didn’t involve Gabe. 

But Gabe, evidently, hasn’t considered it. 

Does that mean Gabe hadn’t thought about his future, with Jesse?

Jesse turns his head and presses it against Gabe’s neck. 

“We should get some sleep,” Gabe says finally. 

“Yeah,” Jesse agrees. Gabe shifts away, reaching for the light switch. Jesse shifts and pulls back the blankets, settling into the pillows. The lights go off and Gabe lies down next to him. He reaches under the blankets and draws Jesse back into his arms. He presses a kiss to Jesse’s temple. Jesse closes his eyes, lets his breath out. 

“I sort of figured we’d keep doing this sort of thing,” Gabe says, quietly, into the darkness. Jesse tries to look at his face but it’s too dark to see. “You and me.”

“You and me?” Jesse echoes. 

“Yeah.”

Jesse smiles, he can’t help it - he’s glad for the dark. He presses his face back into Gabe’s neck. 

“I’d like that,” Jesse says, muffled. Gabe squeezes him gently. 

“Me too.”

=-=-=

The next morning, they linger in bed before they get a proper breakfast at the inn, but their stomachs don’t let them laze around for long. They both end up eating two or three helpings of food - both of them apparently having been in denial about how hungry they actually were. When they’ve eaten their fill, they pile back into the car, check the charge, and head north into the nature preserve. Jesse drives again, insisting that Gabe take the opportunity to relax. 

“Ain’t much to see in these parts,” Jesse says. “Bet you could use the break.”

Gabe doesn’t put up a fight this time, stretching his legs out as much as he can in the passenger’s seat with the window down. He looks good in the front seat; arm slung out the window, his other hand brushing Jesse’s on the shifter, his face open and relaxed.  Jesse still makes an effort to drive more reasonably than he’s wont to, mostly for Gabe’s sake. Jesse keeps sneaking lingering looks at him, though. 

The drive through the nature preserve is mostly uneventful. The highway into the preserve is completely empty - not a single other car on the road. Desert and scrubland stretch out endlessly in all directions. The sun rises higher in the sky, blurring the edges of the horizon in a haze of heat. The music on the radio cuts out, so Jesse and Gabe end up trading stories, laughing, light-hearted. 

“I just don’t get the appeal,” Jesse says earnestly, over Gabe’s laughter. 

“What’s not to get?”

“It’s just a  _ ball _ , how come they make so much money throwing it around?” Jesse says. Gabe laughs harder. 

“It’s a skill, Jesse.”

“It’s ridiculous,” Jesse protests. 

“No more ridiculous than your gun tricks,” Gabe says. Jesse sits up straighter and looks at Gabe, ruffled. 

“ _ That’s _ a skill,” Jesse says. “It took me a long time to perfect it. And I don’t get paid like they do.”

“Eyes on the road. And they spend their whole lives perfecting their skills too,” Gabe says. Jesse grumbles. 

“At least my skills are useful,” he says. Gabe laughs again. He reaches out and touches Jesse’s hand on the shifter again. 

“Basketball is supposed to be fun,” Gabe says. “It’s entertainment.”

“It just looks like a lot of running around to me,” Jesse says. 

“I’ll teach you, some time,” Gabe says. Jesse looks back at Gabe again. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah - it’s fun. You’ll see,” Gabe says confidently. 

“I’m not a big fan of running around for nothin’,” Jesse says. Gabe squeezes his hand. 

“I’ll make it worth your time,” Gabe promises. Jesse raises his eyebrows. 

“What’s that mean?”

“Well -”

The car shudders suddenly and then stops completely, taking Jesse by surprise. He tries to rev the engine, but the car won’t start. 

“What was that?” Gabe asks. 

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Jesse says, already getting out of the car. Gabe unbuckles himself and slides out of the car too. 

The heat is radiating off the highway in the noontime sun. Jesse gets down to the asphalt to peer underneath the chassis. The heat nearly sears his palms, but Jesse gets enough of a look to see a handful of wires dangling from under the engine. He sits back on his heels and looks up at Gabe. 

“Faulty wiring, I’m guessin’,” Jesse says. “Probably why the engine wouldn’t start right off. It just finally gave out.”

Gabe shifts on the spot, looking both ways down the empty highway. “Hell of a time to give up.”

“You’re telling me,” Jesse says. 

“How far out are we from the next town?”

“An hour, maybe two,” Jesse says. 

“Shit,” Gabe frowns. He rubs a hand over his face. Jesse ducks down to look underneath the car again. He tries to remember what he learned in the Deadlock garage, but he’s never worked on a car like this before - with Deadlock, it was mostly bikes; with Overwatch, mostly fancy transports. 

“I might be able to rig something up,” Jesse says. “If I could get under there…”

“You want me to lift it?”

Jesse nearly hits his head on the bumper as he jerks up to look at Gabe. He blinks at him. 

“What?”

“Lift the car?” Gabe says, gesturing to the car. “So you can get under it?”

Jesse feels his mouth go dry, and not because of the desert heat. “You can do that?”

“Probably,” Gabe says. “Maybe not for very long, but…”

Jesse tries to compose himself. He clears his throat, rubs some sweat off his brow. “Yeah. Lemme see if we got anything that might be useful.”

Jesse gets up, dusting off his palms, trying not to think about Gabe lifting the car up one handedly,  _ shirtlessly _ , muscles rippling… That is ridiculous. That is not what is going to happen. His imagination is running away from him. And  _ yet _ … 

The trunk unsurprisingly offers little in the way of supplies. Once again, Jesse finds himself mentally cursing Strike Commander Morrison for leaving them with so few resources. Fortunately for everyone, Jesse is nothing if not resourceful. He grabs a small, picked over toolkit and comes back around to the front of the car. He pulls the keys from the ignition. 

“What’s the plan?” Gabe asks. Jesse holds up a pair of pliers. 

“Try my hand at some rewiring,” Jesse says. “You can really lift this thing? It’s gonna be hot.”

Gabe scoffs. “Watch me.”

Sure enough, Gabe gets his hands underneath the bumper and lifts the front end of the car off the highway. Jesse stares. Somehow, this is better than he imagined. 

“I know how it looks, but I can’t actually stand like this all day,” Gabe says. Jesse blinks and scrambles underneath the car to fiddle with the wires. 

“Just don’t crush me,” Jesse says. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Jesse.”

Jesse flashes Gabe a smile, taking just a moment to appreciate the way his biceps bulge under the sleeve of his t-shirt. He goes back to reconnecting the wires, carefully twisting them back together and tucking them back up into the chassis. Jesse earns a jolt from the car once the wires reconnect, but he takes it as a good sign. He peels himself off the hot asphalt and pops back to his feet, sucking on his singed fingers. Gabe carefully lowers the car back to the ground. 

“Okay?” Gabe asks, nodding to Jesse’s hands. 

“Think so - hold on,” Jesse reaches into the car and tries the ignition again. The car splutters back to life. He beams. “No problem.”

“Let’s hope it holds,” Gabe says. He takes Jesse’s hands into his own, turning them over to inspect his fingers. 

“I’m a great electrician,” Jesse protests. Gabe kisses his singed fingers. 

“I don’t doubt it,” he says. Jesse curls his fingers into his palm, smiling. 

“You wanna lift up that car again? Real slow like?”

Gabe laughs. He pulls Jesse in for a kiss. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Me? I’m not the one with the rippling muscles straight off one of them old cheap paperbacks,” Jesse says, letting Gabe pull him in even though it’s too hot to be so close. He runs his hand up Gabe’s forearm, squeezes his bicep. Gabe kisses him again. 

“Have you looked in a mirror lately?” Gabe asks. “You’re not exactly some waif.”

Jesse laughs. He kisses Gabe again, long and deep and slow, until the heat radiating from the road is too hot to bear. He pulls away, eyes bright, then tugs Gabe with him into the backseat of the car, tipping backwards so Gabe lands on top of him. It’s a tight fit - neither of them are small men - but Jesse likes being surrounded by Gabe’s bulk in spite of the heat. He kisses him, open-mouthed, wrapping his arms around his shoulders, hooking a leg around one of Gabe’s. It’s still too hot, they’re starting to sweat through their shirts, but neither of them are much interested in stopping. They pant into each other’s mouths. 

“Should probably - mm - probably head to town,” Jesse says between deep, lingering kisses. Gabe nips at Jesse’s lips. 

“Uh huh,” he says. Jesse squirms. 

“Find a mechanic,” Jesse says. “A proper bed -”

Gabe laughs against Jesse’s mouth. He kisses him deeper, getting a hand under Jesse’s shirt. Jesse arches into the touch. 

“Too hot for this here, huh?” Gabe says, mouth moving down over Jesse’s throat. 

“When you put it that way -” Jesse starts to say, but it turns into a choked off little moan as Gabe sucks a mark into the patch of skin where his neck meets his shoulder. There's gonna be no explanation for the collection of marks he's beginning to amass around his collar, but Jesse couldn't care less. He arches into it, but Gabe is already lifting up and off him. Jesse blinks a little, as if to clear his vision. Gabe’s haloed by the desert sun behind him, positively angelic. 

“Hold that thought until we get to town, yeah?” Gabe says. Jesse scrambles to sit up and drags Gabe back down for a final, lingering kiss. 

“Yeah. Definitely.”

Jesse’s wiring holds up long enough for them to get themselves out of the nature preserve and into El Rosario. There’s a motel called Baja Cactus off the highway that’s conveniently attached to a mechanic and gas station. Jesse pulls into the garage and hops out. Gabe heads to the motel next door while Jesse takes care of the car. There’s three or four men hanging around the back of the garage in the shade, watching Jesse as he speaks to the head mechanic. After some negotiation and an upfront payment, the mechanic assures him that they’ll get the car back first thing in the morning. Jesse tips his hat to the mechanic and heads back out to find Gabe. There’s a weird prickling feeling up the back of his neck that Jesse shrugs off, chalking it up to sweat dripping down his collar. 

“I saw a restaurant next door,” Gabe says when Jesse finds him in the courtyard of the motel. “Hungry?”

“Just about starving, darlin’,” Jesse says, letting the endearment slip out without meaning to. Gabe’s smile, only widens, though. It makes something go warm and fuzzy in Jesse’s chest.  

“Let’s grab something to eat, then.”

The restaurant turns out to be run by a father and his three daughters. They're the only customers at this time in the afternoon, so they're seated immediately and well tended to. Jesse catches Gabe watching the three young women bicker over the kitchen window. 

“When was the last time you saw your family?” Jesse asks. Gabe drags his eyes away from the women. 

“It's been awhile,” Gabe admits. 

“We could stop by before we call for extraction,” Jesse says. “Los Angeles, right? What's a couple hundred more miles?”

Gabe lets out a little laugh and ducks his head. “Yeah. Maybe.”

“I'd like to meet ‘em,” Jesse says, surprising himself. Gabe looks back up at Jesse. 

“Really?”

“Yeah. Why not?”

“My sisters will eat you alive,” Gabe warns. 

“Please, I survived growing up with Deadlock. What's worse than that?”

“This is kind of different,” Gabe says. “Family is… different.”

This time Jesse looks away, back to the three women who are now laughing at each other through the kitchen window. Something is clenching around his heart. 

“Sorry,” Gabe says after too long of a pause. “I didn't mean…”

Jesse comes back to himself. He shakes his head. 

“I know,” Jesse gives Gabe a crooked half-smile. “My mom probably would've hated you. But you'd’ve won her over.”  

Gabe reaches across the table haltingly, then takes Jesse’s hand and squeezes it. Jesse squeezes back. 

“If you wanted, we could probably find some of the Deadlock guys in prison. I know they already hate you,” Jesse says. Gabe laughs. 

“I think I'll pass,” he says. Jesse smiles a little wider. He ducks his head and picks at his food for a few moments. 

“I don't actually think she would've hated you,” Jesse says finally, his voice going a little soft. “She just… she was protective.”

“She wanted the best for you,” Gabe nods. Jesse squeezes his hand again. 

“You would've had no problem with her,” Jesse says earnestly. This time Gabe ducks his head and Jesse doesn’t stop the smile that tugs at his lips. 

After several beers and enough food to feed a reasonably sized family, Jesse and Gabe make their way back to their motel room. They end up spooned up close in the bed - Jesse’s front to Gabe’s back - and fall asleep into a food-induced nap. 

They wake up as the last ray of sun disappear over the horizon, slightly disoriented and somehow hungry again. Jesse volunteers to find some food while Gabe ventures out in search of a bottle of something strong. Three of the men from the mechanic’s shop are now loitering in front of the closed garage, the ends of their cigarettes glowing red in the twilight. Jesse nods to them as he passes, making his way back to the restaurant to grab something to take back to the room. The three sisters at the restaurant remember Jesse and tease him gently, poking his side and asking questions about Gabe. Jesse answers good-naturedly, playing up the charm, and ends up leaving with more than enough food to feed both he and Gabe for the next day and a half. 

Jesse hums to himself as he walks the short distance back to the motel. The three men from the mechanic’s shop are nowhere in sight, but Jesse can still smell the cigarette smoke lingering in the air. He breathes in the smell greedily; it's been a long time since he had a cigarette and the craving has suddenly come back in full force. He's so distracted by it that he doesn't notice the men lunging out of the shadows at him until the first fist collides with the side of his head. 

The bag of food in Jesse’s hand goes flying as he stumbles. He doesn't fall but also doesn't recover enough in time to miss the second punch - this time to the gut. His breath leaves his chest in a pained puff. Arms grab his shoulders, his arms, dragging him into the alley between the motel and the garage even as Jesse struggles. Two hands grab his left arm, tugging the sleeve up to expose the tattoo on his forearm. 

“I knew it,” one man says. 

“Fucking Deadlock,” another man hisses. Jesse twists, kicking a leg out and catching the man in the knee. He stumbles but regains his balance enough to throw a punch. This one catches Jesse on the jaw, making his head snap back. He blinks the stars out of his eyes. 

“I ain't Deadlock,” he spits. One of the men jabs the tattoo on Jesse’s arm with his finger. 

“You got that,” the man says. “You don't get that for doin’ nothing.”

“I ain't Deadlock,” Jesse says again. That earns him another blow, and another, and Jesse can’t do much other than try to kick them out of the way. The men wise up to that method and wrestle Jesse to the ground. Jesse is strong, scrappy - but they have the numbers advantage. He takes the blows, tasting blood in his mouth, letting them tire themselves out, biding his time. They make the mistake of letting up on one of Jesse’s arms and that's enough for him to be able to catch a punch before it lands. He catches the man's fist and pulls it down, hard. It throws the man off balance and sends him stumbling to the ground. Jesse kicks out. His foot connects with something soft so he does it again. He manages to scramble to his feet, drawing an arm back for a punch and swinging. But his fist doesn't connect with anything. It catches him off balance and he stumbles. Jesse picks up his head in time to see Gabe punching one of the men right down to the ground. 

“I had it under control,” Jesse says, grabbing one of the men before he scrambles away. 

“You were getting beat to shit,” Gabe says. He catches the last man and punches him unconscious, letting him crumple to the floor. 

“I was takin’ care of it!” Jesse protests, dumping his guy into the pile at their feet. He turns his head and spits blood. 

“Funny way of showing it,” Gabe says. He reaches out and takes Jesse’s chin in his hand, tilting his face towards the street lights. “You okay?”

“Nothing major,” Jesse says with a shrug, but he doesn't pull away. “What do we do with these guys?”

“I'll make some calls,” Gabe says. Jesse gestures to the spilled food. 

“I can pick up some more food,” Jesse offers. Gabe shakes his head. 

“Go back to the room, get cleaned up. I'll be there in a little bit,” Gabe says. He picks up his own shopping bag, which apparently made it through the ordeal unscathed. “There's tequila.”

“You sure you don't need any help out here?” Jesse says. He casts a glance down at his attackers, but they appear to be thoroughly unconscious. He toes at the closest one with distaste. 

“I'll take care of it. What did they want?” Gabe asks. Jesse shrugs, pushing up his torn sleeve to show him his tattoo. 

“Clocked my brand,” Jesse says. “Guess I shoulda kept the cover on.”

Gabe frowns. “Go get cleaned up. I'll be right there.”

Jesse limps back to the motel room with the shopping bag in hand, trusting Gabe to clean up the mess he left behind. He tries to tamp down the guilty feeling welling in his chest; it’s not the first time Jesse’s sordid past had gotten them into trouble on a job, and he has a hunch it won't be the last. He should really talk to Angela about doing something about it - something more permanent than temporary cover ups. It’s the right thing to do. They can't risk being compromised like this. 

Jesse has always been reluctant to do something about the Deadlock tattoo; it's been on his arm for over a decade. He had worked hard to earn it, and - even though he knows now, rationally, he shouldn’t value anything Deadlock put him through - it was a bright spot of accomplishment, a point of pride for a younger Jesse McCree who otherwise had so little about which to boast. He had made a name for himself at a young age. He had proven to himself - and others - that he was capable, competent, skilled. Sometimes, it was nice to have the reminder, even if some of the memories that went along with it were… traumatic. Jesse reminds himself that he doesn't need it to reinforce that he's good at his job; Gabe reminds him of that often. The reassurance from Gabe matters much more than anything Deadlock had ever given him.

In the light of their motel room bathroom, Jesse examines his face: he'll have a black eye for sure. It doesn't look like his nose broken, at least. The blood smeared on his face is mostly from his mouth and a cut on his cheekbone where a punch split skin. 

Jesse splashes some water on his face, wincing against the sting. Once he gets most of the blood off his skin, he peels off his clothes, which are already dirty from being worn for days and now blood stained on top of it. He feels along his ribs. Bruised, at least, maybe fractured where he had already been bruised from their earlier assignment. There's a boot-shaped mark already blossoming on his sternum. Jesse makes a face at his own reflection. He grabs a towel and wraps it around his waist and goes to look in Gabe’s shopping bag. There's a bottle of tequila, some limes, a few candy bars, and a small bottle of lube. Jesse snorts. It pulls something awful in his ribs but that doesn’t keep the smile from spreading over his face. 

After a shower, Jesse hauls himself up onto the tall bed with the contents of the shopping bag and eases himself back onto the pillows. He contemplates opening the bottle of tequila himself, but decides to wait until Gabe gets back from clean-up duty. Jesse suddenly feels very tired. His body aches, but it’s more than that. He closes his eyes, and tries not to think about it. 

At some point, he must fall asleep, because Jesse wakes as the bed dips. A warm, calloused hand touches his cheek. Jesse cracks an eye open with some difficulty - it’s already swollen. 

“Tequila and lube, huh?” Jesse asks. The color rises to Gabe’s cheeks even as his expression defaults to blank and unreadable. 

“I thought the evening might go a little differently than you getting beat up in an alley,” Gabe says evenly. Jesse tugs him down to kiss him. 

“Optimistic,” Jesse says against his mouth. He kisses Gabe again. 

“Anything broken?” Gabe asks, obviously trying to change the topic. He pulls away to get a better look at Jesse. His eyes land on the boot-shaped bruise on Jesse’s chest, layered over the leftover and yellowing bruises from the mission that got them into this whole mess. 

“Maybe some ribs,” Jesse says. Gabe frowns. He runs a hand up Jesse’s side. It’s steady, solid. Comforting. 

“We should really get home,” he says. 

“Shouldn’t let a couple of thugs ruin our little road trip,” Jesse says. 

“It’s not a vacation.”

“Might as well be, remember?”

“You’re hurt.”

“Had worse,” Jesse shrugs. “I bet one of them chocolate bars, some tequila, and some well-placed lube’ll fix me right up.”

“Jesse,” Gabe scrunches up his face. Jesse pulls him down again, cupping the back of his neck, kissing away the worried wrinkles at the corners of Gabe’s eyes. 

“You took care of them, right?” Jesse asks. Gabe nods. “Then we got nothin’ to worry about. We’ll get our car back in the morning. We only got a couple more hours before we get to the border - we’ll get extracted on the other side, but for now, we’ll make the most of it.”

Gabe breathes out. Jesse moves his fingers in the short hairs at the back of his neck, searching his eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” he finds himself saying. Gabe blinks.

“For what?”

“The tattoo. I should’ve -”

“Hey,” Gabe interrupts, gently, firmly. “Don’t start that again.”

“It’s a liability,” Jesse says. Gabe puts his hand over the tattoo. 

“Our job’s never going to be easy, Jesse,” Gabe says, squeezing Jesse’s forearm lightly. “People are going to hurt us whether they recognize us or not.”

“I couldn’t forgive myself if something happened to  _ you _ ‘cause of me,” Jesse says. 

“Jesse -”

“No, really, Gabe. I love you and if something ever happened to you -” Jesse stops, eyes going a little wide. Gabe has gone completely still, eyes boring into Jesse’s. He doesn’t squirm under his look, but it’s a near thing. Jesse swallows thickly. “I mean, um. You know - ‘cause of my negligence, or... I’ve been meaning to talk to Angela about it anyway and maybe it’s a good time now, or at least, you know, no time like the present?”

“Did you just…?”

“What?” Jesse asks, feigning confusion, his voice going a little high. It's too soon, he's getting ahead of himself, he's a goddamn  _ idiot _ -

“You said -”

“What?” Jesse says again. Gabe takes Jesse’s face in both hands, more roughly than he probably intends, his eyes searching his face. Jesse can feel his heart thumping in his throat. 

“You said you love me,” Gabe says finally, voice barely above a whisper. 

“I -” Jesse starts to say. 

“You said it,” Gabe says, almost accusatory. 

“I did,” Jesse says. He wets his lips with the tip of his tongue, steeling himself. “I love you, Gabe.”

Gabe crushes his mouth against Jesse’s, painfully bumping up against Jesse’s bruised face as he kisses him desperately, needily. Jesse doesn’t care - he melts into it, grabbing at Gabe and pulling him close. 

“I love you,” Jesse says between kisses. “I love you.”

Gabe kisses Jesse until they’re both panting for breath. He pulls away just enough to look Jesse in the eye again. There’s a vulnerable look in his face that makes something clench around Jesse’s heart. He tightens his hand slightly at the back of Gabe’s neck. 

“You mean it?”

“Yeah, Gabe, I do,” Jesse says. Gabe kisses him again, then again. 

“I love you too, Jesse,” he says. Jesse thinks he’s imagining it, Gabe’s speaking so softly, but then he says it again - “I love you.”

Jesse’s heart soars. He’s dizzy with the feeling and the lack of oxygen as Gabe continues to seal hot, possessive kisses across Jesse’s lips. He doesn't want to let go, though; he can't remember there ever being a time in his life when somebody loved him like Gabe does. He feels like a new man. 

Gabe’s elbow lands in Jesse’s aching ribs and the gasp that escapes his mouth is anything but out of pleasure. Gabe backs off immediately. 

“Shit - are you okay?” Gabe asks, looking sheepish. Jesse presses his hand over his throbbing ribs. 

“Tender,” Jesse says. “Nothing some tequila won't make me forget.”

Gabe shakes his head a little. “Sorry.”

“It's okay,” Jesse says, trying to pull him in again, but Gabe resists, looking over the bruises on Jesse’s body again. “Gabe, it's okay.”

Gabe sits up and toes off his boots, letting them fall to the floor in a pile. He pulls off his shirt and drops it over the side too. Jesse reaches up and touches his back, running his palm over his scarred skin. Gabe turns his head to look over his shoulder at him. 

“You want a drink?” Gabe asks. Jesse shrugs. 

“Just you, mostly,” he says. Gabe ducks his head. 

“Jesus,” Gabe says under his breath. He turns and stretches out next to Jesse, sliding in close and pulling Jesse in the rest of the way. “How’d I get so lucky?”

Jesse lets out a short laugh. “Could be asking you the same question,” Jesse says. “We must’ve done something right, huh?”

“Something,” Gabe shakes his head a little, a disbelieving sort of smile on his lips. He kisses Jesse again and Jesse deepens it, getting in as close as he can manage, fingers sliding into Gabe’s hair and pressing into his skin. They kiss each other like their lives depend on it - breathing hot and heavily into each other’s mouths, legs tangling together, getting as close as they can manage. At some point, Jesse’s towel falls away and Gabe’s fingers trail in the hair leading down between his legs. Jesse arches up into it, making a pleased noise into Gabe’s mouth. Gabe pauses. 

“Are you sure?” Gabe asks. Jesse nods, lifting his hips up again. 

“I ain't that hurt. Plus, I saw the lube before I showered,” Jesse says. Gabe’s embarrassed flush returns to his cheeks so Jesse leans up to kiss him again, reaching to guide Gabe’s hand between them to his rapidly hardening dick. Jesse makes that low, pleased noise deep in his chest again. Gabe responds in kind, his voice reverberating through Jesse’s skin as his hand begins to stroke Jesse. 

“Gonna take it slow,” Gabe says. He sucks Jesse’s lower lip into his mouth. 

“Yeah,” Jesse breathes. “Take our time.”

They do. Normally, it's all quick and dirty - no time to linger. They've had the luxury of time on this protracted extraction effort, but it still doesn’t come naturally. Gabe wastes no time in getting Jesse fully hard, fingers working his cock expertly. Jesse is already panting and squirming under Gabe before he backs off, seeming to remember that they can take their time. He digs the lube out of the shopping back while Jesse tries to catch his breath. Gabe doesn’t leave him waiting for long; he finds the lube and settles between Jesse’s legs, nudging them apart gently. He runs his hands along the inside of Jesse’s thighs as he raises his eyes to look at Jesse. 

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Gabe says. 

“Right now it ain’t nearly enough,” Jesse replies, spreading his legs a little wider. Gabe blinks then rolls his eyes fondly. He ducks his head down and licks a stripe up Jesse’s thigh. “That’s the ticket.”

Gabe seemingly consciously takes his time, though - kissing over Jesse’s thighs, tonguing at his balls, licking up the underside of Jesse’s cock before he takes the tip of him into his mouth. Jesse’s breathing picks up, one hand clenching in the sheets while the other reaches down to lace his fingers with Gabe’s on his thigh. He holds Gabe’s gaze as he sucks on the tip of Jesse’s cock. Gabe looks so good with his spit-shiny lips wrapped around his dick, his eyes heavy-lidded and smoldering, the color high in his cheeks. There’s a curl falling over Gabe’s forehead, bouncing with each bob of Gabe’s head. 

Jesse’s lost in the feeling of Gabe’s mouth on his dick, so he doesn’t hear when the bottle of lube clicks open - he just feels the sudden slick press of Gabe’s fingers against his hole. Gabe’s fingers just barely skate over the pucker, putting a slight pressure on him, teasing. Jesse shifts restlessly, needing more either from Gabe’s mouth or his fingers - but preferably both. 

“Still - still ain’t enough, Gabe,” Jesse pants. Gabe chuckles around his dick, pulling off as he does so. 

“What happened to taking our time?”

Jesse whines, trying to get Gabe’s fingers where he needs them. Gabe keeps pulling them away when Jesse gets closer. 

“Gabe!” Jesse says, frustrated. Gabe laughs. He sinks a finger into Jesse, down to the second knuckle. It feels so fucking good. Jesse tosses his head back against the pillow. “More - more, c’mon, Gabe -”

Gabe presses his finger in deeper and then curls it up, seeking out the spot that will make Jesse jump. He finds it almost immediately, expertly - Jesse cries out - but backs off almost as quickly. Gabe’s finger skates over Jesse’s prostate, watching his dick twitch every time he gets close. Jesse shudders. His fingers pull at the sheets. 

“Cruel, Gabe, so cruel -  _ there _ , please, there -” 

Gabe strokes him on the inside, adding a second finger, then a third, too much but almost not enough all at once. His eyes never leave Jesse’s face, the curl of his smile sending nearly as many shivers down Jesse’s spine as his fingers. Jesse feels stretched but not quite full. Gabe takes Jesse’s cock into his mouth again, licking the pre-come that’s beaded on the tip from Gabe’s teasing. Jesse arches up, moaning. 

“Can you keep up, if you come?” Gabe asks, lips still pressed to the tip of his dick. Jesse nods desperately. 

“Yeah - yeah, Gabe -” Jesse says. He’ll say pretty much anything at this point if it gets Gabe to fuck him like he needs. Gabe presses all three of his fingers up into Jesse’s prostate, rubbing against it hard. Jesse cries out, his dick jumping against his stomach. Gabe sinks his mouth down and around his dick, taking Jesse down his throat, hollowing his cheeks and sucking hard. Jesse’s so wound up already that it doesn’t take much more than that to tip him over the edge. “Gabe!”

Jesse’s hand flies into Gabe’s hair, tugging on his curls as he comes. He’s shouting - he’s pretty sure of it - but there’s nothing keeping him from making as much noise as he wants. He goes limp and twitchy as Gabe pulls off his softening dick and comes up to press a kiss to the corner of Jesse’s mouth. 

“Still love me?” Gabe asks. Jesse huffs out a little laugh and turns his head to kiss him properly. 

“Definitely. More ‘n ever,” Jesse says. Gabe laughs too. 

“Love you too, Jesse,” Gabe says. He plants one more open-mouthed kiss to Jesse’s mouth and then he’s moving back down. Jesse hears the lube bottle this time. The cool sensation against his ass as Gabe presses his fingers back into him is so pleasant. “Still okay?”

Jesse breathes out. He spreads his legs a little further apart. “Yeah. Want more.”

“Insatiable,” Gabe says. He moves his fingers in and out, slowly, dragging over Jesse’s prostate. It makes his spent cock twitch with interest against his stomach. It's almost too much - but Jesse can't bear to make Gabe stop. 

“More,” Jesse breathes. 

Gabe sits back on his heels between Jesse’s legs. He keeps his fingers working inside of him while his other hand fumbles with the bottle of lube. Gabe holds Jesse’s gaze as he slicks up the length of his own thick cock, lazily smearing lube over the blunt tip of his erection. Jesse catches his own lip between his teeth. He nods wordlessly. Gabe leans forward, hovering over Jesse, keeping himself above him with one hand planted on the mattress by Jesse’s shoulder. He drags his fingers out of Jesse and uses that hand to steady his cock against Jesse’s ass. Jesse makes a small, needy noise, lifting his hips up, one leg hooking around Gabe’s to try to bring him in - but Gabe resists, sticking to his own pace. He shifts forward and sinks into Jesse, stretching him open around his cock. Gabe’s big - thick - and Jesse loves the way it fills him up in a way that fingers never can. He feels practically split open and he clenches around Gabe’s dick desperately. That draws a noise out of Gabe’s throat, breaks his concentration just enough to get him to push another inch or two in with abandon. Jesse reaches up for him. 

“Fuck me,” he breathes. “Wanna feel - fuck me, Gabe.”

Gabe nips at Jesse’s mouth and thrusts the rest of the way in with a sharp jerk of his hips. Gabe’s hips crash into the bruises on Jesse’s own, but it burns and aches and feels so fucking good all at once. Jesse lets his head fall back as Gabe grinds against him. 

“Good?” Gabe asks, pressing kisses over the marks he's already left on Jesse’s throat. “Good, Jesse?”

“ _ Gabe _ ,” Jesse gasps. He lets go of the sheets to cling to Gabe’s shoulders, fingers digging into his skin. Gabe pushes one of Jesse’s legs up, his hand hooked behind his knee, and starts a lazy, purposeful rhythm; not too fast, not too slow, Gabe gets Jesse panting and hard again in a matter of minutes. He's more careful with Jesse’s aches and bruises now, avoiding pressing into them as much as he can. He breathes heavily into Jesse’s ear. It takes Jesse a moment to realize that Gabe’s actually saying words - 

“Love you,” Gabe murmurs, barely enunciating the words between breathy pants. “Love you, Jesse, love you -”

Jesse clings to Gabe, closing his eyes to just enjoy the closeness, the  _ intimacy _ . It feels good - it always feels good - but this time feels different. More important, somehow. Jesse feels more exposed, vulnerable. He gives himself up to Gabe’s able hands, trusting him to take care of him. 

Gabe brings Jesse to the edge and then dances around it. His cock slides against his prostate with each languorous drag in and out of Jesse, the pressure just enough but also somehow not. Jesse is stretched, full, overwhelmed by Gabe in the best way. Jesse loses himself in the sensation. His cock is trapped between them, sliding in the sweat that clings to both of their bodies. Gabe’s hips stutter, he thrusts in more sharply, less careful with his tender spots, his voice in Jesse’s ear rising just slightly louder. 

“Jesse, Jesse,” Gabe says, over and over. His hands grasp Jesse’s hips, tugging him up from the bed as he drives his cock home, spilling into Jesse with a moan. He keeps thrusting through it, the slick wet sound filling Jesse’s ears, enough to push him over the edge as soon as Gabe’s fingers find his cock again. 

They collapse into a sweaty pile, happy to stay close, unwilling to move even if their skin sticks to each other. Gabe shifts Jesse gently, carefully to the side, again mindful of his aches and pains. He pushes away the sweat-damp hair that clings to Jesse’s forehead, eyes scanning Jesse’s face, his own face flushed. 

“Okay?” Gabe asks. Jesse leans up with some difficulty - his ribs protesting - to kiss Gabe sweetly. 

“Love you, Gabe.”

They don't sleep much that night. 

=-=-=

Sometime late in the morning, Gabe and Jesse drag themselves out of bed and into the shower. Jesse moves slowly, the beating from the day before having caught up with him and compounded by the night’s enthusiastic lack of sleep. Gabe spots him into the shower, a steadying hand on his hip, fitting over some fingerprint-shaped bruises that were decidedly not from the thugs. 

“Are you sure you're okay?” Gabe asks for the umpteenth time. Jesse steadies himself against the shower wall. 

“My answer ain't gonna change, Gabe,” Jesse says. The warm water washes over his body. He tips his head back, letting it soothe the ache in his muscles. 

“We’ll get the car first thing,” Gabe says. He steps into the shower behind him, grabbing the bar of soap and lathering Jesse’s back with tender circles. 

“Uh huh,” Jesse says, leaning back into Gabe’s touch. “I'm really not looking forward to sitting for a couple of hours.”

Jesse cracks an eye open to catch Gabe’s dismayed expression. He laughs and drags Gabe in for a kiss. 

“Don't look like that, sweetheart,” Jesse says. “ _ That’s _ a good kind of sore.”

After their shower, Jesse convinces Gabe to have some breakfast before hitting the road first thing. Their new friends at the restaurant are more than happy to feed them mountains of food, and Jesse thinks he could very easily spend several days here, simply enjoying being fed. The women send Jesse and Gabe on their way with a few boxes of food for the road, making them promise to come back some day soon. 

Gabe accompanies Jesse to the garage, keeping a sharp eye out for any more thugs, but the daylight seems to keep to unsavory characters away. Still, Gabe is almost comically wary as Jesse finishes paying the mechanic. He stands very close to Jesse, practically looming over him. He plucks the keys from Jesse’s hands as soon as the mechanic hands them over.  

“I'll drive,” Gabe says. “You take it easy.”

Jesse rolls his eyes but lets Gabe slide into the driver's seat. In the passenger’s seat, Jesse shifts around to get comfortable, pushing the seat back as far as it will go and lowering the window as soon as they pull back out onto the highway. It's another hot day, the morning sun already beating down on the asphalt, but the breeze through the window offsets the heat coming through the windshield. Jesse laces his fingers with Gabe’s over the shifter again, and relaxes. He turns his head to look at Gabe, whose eyes are on the road. He looks relaxed too - more than Jesse is used to seeing. 

It feels normal, natural in a way that Jesse can’t put his finger on. He’s practically forgotten why they’re in this situation in the first place, and it almost doesn’t even matter, either. He gets to spend time with Gabe without worrying about propriety or watchful eyes or levels of command. They’re just two people, together, enjoying each other’s company. Their conversation flows light and easy, any lulls in the conversation comfortable pauses rather than insurmountable silence. Jesse finds his mind drifting to the possibilities - a normal life, outside of Blackwatch, no more fighting, a bed at night where he can lay his head, Gabe at his side. 

It’s a nice thought. 

The further north they head, though, the more reality starts to eat away at the pleasantness. The desert is more populated here, the cacti and scrub giving way to little towns that get bigger with each passing mile. By the time they reach the outskirts of Ensenada, Jesse’s gone quieter, a little stiffer in his seat. It’s hard to hold onto the daydreams when civilization presses back in around them, reminding Jesse that their vacation from reality is nearing its end. Gabe is still talking though, filling in the void with long, enthusiastic explanations about the particularities of basketball. Jesse tries to pay attention, but his mind is elsewhere. 

Traffic slows to a crawl when they finally reach the border crossing in Tijuana. The sun bores through the window and the breeze has faded to nothing. Starting to sweat through his shirt, Jesse fidgets in his seat. He pulls his hand away from Gabe’s to drum his fingers on his thigh. He doesn’t look at Gabe, who’s digging around for their Overwatch credentials as they get closer to the checkpoint. 

The border agent leans through the window as they pull up. Gabe flashes his credentials. 

“Agents Reyes and McCree, Overwatch,” Gabe says. The border agent blinks, obviously not sure what to do for a moment. He takes the identification from Gabe and looks between the badge and Gabe for a few moments. 

“I gotta check this with my lieutenant,” the agent says. Gabe nods amiably. 

“We can pull over while you go check,” Gabe says. “But I'm gonna need that back, first.”

The border agent hands Gabe back their credentials and waves them to the side. Gabe parks and kills the engine. 

“Almost home, huh?” Gabe says, looking over at Jesse. Jesse half-turns in his seat to look at Gabe. 

“Yeah, guess so,” he says, trying to force some cheerfulness into his tone. “Could really use some clean clothes.”

Gabe laughs. “That's for sure.”

Jesse is sure his smile is just on the wrong side of forced but Gabe doesn't seem to notice as the border agent comes back with his lieutenant. The lieutenant asks them each a couple of questions, but their credentials check out. As Gabe starts the car again, the border agent and lieutenant both salute them. 

“Thank you for your service,” the lieutenant says, face serious. 

“It's an honor,” the border agent adds. Gabe gives them both a curt nod and Jesse does his best to not to sink down in his seat. They pull back onto the highway, into the United States and Gabe lets out a breath. 

“We should probably check in at the Navy base in San Diego,” Gabe says. “Arrange for debrief and extraction.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jesse says. A weight is settling over his chest. He  _ knew _ they were going to go back, that it had been too good to be true, that it wouldn’t last… But he isn’t ready to let it go. It’s not going to be the same when they get back to the base, back to Blackwatch. They won’t be able to hold hands, linger in bed, tell each other they love each other with abandon…

“Jesse?” Gabe says, his tone indicating that it’s not the first time he’s said his name. Jesse startles a little, guilty. 

“Sorry - you say something?”

“Yeah,” Gabe says, brow knitting together slightly. “I asked if you preferred Grand Mesa or Switzerland?”

“Oh,” Jesse shakes his head a little, as if to clear it. “Either way. Wherever we’re needed.”

Gabe gives Jesse a strange look, but doesn’t press the issue. There’s traffic on the 5, of course, and San Diego drivers are as idiotic as ever. Jesse slips down in his seat a little, watching the road as Gabe weaves his way through traffic and trying to get his head back into the mindset of how things were before they were stranded in Mexico. 

“I don’t miss this,” Gabe says. Jesse turns his head towards Gabe, making an effort to pay attention to him, rather than let himself get lost in his own misery. 

“Miss what?”

Gabe gestures at the gridlock. “Traffic. Overwatch transports are much easier.”

“Oh, yeah. I guess flying is always faster,” Jesse says, a little clumsily. “There was never much traffic where I grew up.”

“No? Guess not,” Gabe says. “LA traffic is worse than this, believe it or not.”

“People keep just changing lanes,” Jesse says. 

“Grass is always greener,” Gabe says. Jesse thinks - but doesn’t say out loud - that there’s an awful lot of truth in that saying. 

It takes almost as long to get to the Navy base as it did to get from Ensenada to Tijuana. Jesse’s tired, worn out, aching from being scrunched in the front seat of the car for far too long. He’s dreading debriefing with the Overwatch agents stationed at the base, although he’s slightly relieved that they don’t have to see Morrison first thing. Jesse’s not sure if he’d be able to keep from swinging for his perfect chiseled chin at first sight. 

Gabe pulls out their credentials again when they pull up to the gates of the Navy base. They’re waved through with no problems and directed towards the Overwatch outpost off Kalfbus Street. Gabe parks but doesn’t get out immediately. He looks at Jesse. Jesse feels his throat close up. 

“Back to reality, huh?” Gabe says, a rueful look in his eye. Jesse forces himself to smile.

“Too good to be true,” Jesse nods. Gabe touches Jesse’s hand, lightly, briefly, already mindful of the watchful eyes of the Navy base. Jesse curls his fingers into his palm. 

“At least we can get you a biotic field or something,” Gabe says, almost gruff, changing the topic. “Take care of those bumps and bruises.”

“Silver linings.”

Gabe slides out of the car first. Jesse takes a moment longer to compose himself. He’s almost as much a professional on the job as Gabe so it’s really not hard - his heart is just reluctant to cooperate. Jesse squares his shoulders and follows Gabe into the Overwatch outpost, falling in a step behind him. Gabe glances back at Jesse, confused for a moment, before his mind catches up. Gabe faces forward and Jesse’s heart twists in his chest. 

The debrief doesn't take long at all. Jesse is directed to the Navy hospital for treatment while Gabe arranges transport back to the Swiss base. The hospital is nowhere near as good as what they have at Overwatch - Angela is particular as well as spoiled with the best, state-of-the-art technology, much of it her own invention. Jesse is set up in a corner with his own bed and an old model biotic field that doesn't exactly give him any pain relief while his ribs knit back together. He grits his teeth and bears it, trying not to think about heading to Switzerland. It'll be cold, probably - maybe rainy. He's pretty sure Fareeha won't be around this time of year. There's also probably a lecture or two from Jack Morrison to look forward to as well. 

Jesse is in the field long enough to fall asleep, mostly out of sheer boredom. He’s tired from the lack of sleep from the night before, compounded by the physical toll his injuries took on his body. He wakes to a heavy hand on his shoulder. 

“Mm - doc?” Jesse mumbles. He cracks open an eye to find Gabe peering over him. He smiles, warm and open before he registers where they are. “Oh - hey.”

“How do you feel?” Gabe asks, letting his hand fall from Jesse’s shoulder. Jesse immediately mourns the loss. 

“Sore. Stiff,” Jesse says. He stretches a little, wincing. “But better.”

“Good,” Gabe says. His gaze moves over Jesse’s body, checking to verify Jesse’s words for himself. “I can get us back to Switzerland tonight, if you want.”

“Yeah?” 

“Unless you want another day of recovery,” Gabe gestures vaguely at the hospital room. “Morrison has our report. No reason to hurry back.”

“No point in lingering either, really. I'd like a pair of my own sweats for starters,” Jesse says with a small shrug, gesturing at his hospital scrubs. “And it’d be nice to get a night’s sleep in my own bed for once.”

Gabe looks like he’s about to say something, but then thinks better of it. He gives Jesse a short nod. 

“I’ll see about getting you discharged from here, then,” Gabe says. He hesitates a moment, meeting Jesse’s eyes. Jesse swallows thickly, fingers twitching on the bed. Gabe reaches out and squeezes Jesse’s shoulder. His voice goes lower when he speaks. “I’ll be back.”

Jesse watches Gabe’s back as he leaves the hospital room, chest tight. He wonders if Gabe’s having the same thoughts - or if it’s just his imagination. They might not get a chance to talk it through, even if Jesse wanted to. It’s just going to be an adjustment; they’ve done this before, keeping their relationship under the radar. 

Why does it feel so much harder than before?

Gabe comes back with Jesse’s discharge papers and a requisition order for a shuttle back to the Swiss base. 

“Ready to go?” Gabe asks. Jesse swings his legs down from the bed. 

“Rarin’,” Jesse says. 

The sun has already set over the harbor by the time Jesse and Gabe get into the shuttle back to Switzerland. Jesse takes a seat towards the back, and is surprised when Gabe takes the seat directly next to him. He sneaks a glance at Gabe. 

“Okay?” Gabe asks. Jesse bites the inside of his cheek and nods. 

“Just tired,” Jesse says. 

“We’ll be home soon. Get some rest if you can,” Gabe says. The shuttle lifts off, heading east. The pilot keeps the lights dim, so Jesse sinks back in his seat and closes his eyes. He hugs his arms close to his chest, the hospital scrubs not doing much to keep him warm. He doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but he’s never one to pass up the opportunity for a nap, and his body is more tired that he realizes. 

At some point over the Atlantic, Jesse wakes up with his cheek pressed against Gabe’s shoulder. He starts to pick up his head but Gabe stops him with a gentle hand on his cheek. 

“Shh. It’s okay,” Gabe murmurs, barely audible over the hum of the transport shuttle. “Go back to sleep.”

“Mm - but -” Jesse starts to protest. Gabe pulls Jesse in closer, one arm wrapped around his shoulders. Jesse gives in; he falls asleep again almost immediately. The warm weight of Gabe next to him is comforting, reassuring.  _ Safe _ , his mind supplies before sleep overtakes him once again. 

The shuttle lands in Switzerland when it’s still dark. The pilot turns on the ship’s lights but it’s Gabe that rouses Jesse from his sleep. Jesse wakes, disoriented, a spot of drool at the corner of his mouth. He sits up when Gabe shakes him gently. 

“We’re here,” Gabe says. Jesse blinks blearily. He rubs the back of his hand over his mouth. 

“Already?”

Jesse wonders if the look he sees on Gabe’s face is as apologetic - regretful? - as he’s imagining it. Gabe nods. 

“Yeah. Should head to bed,” Gabe says. “We’ve got a briefing with Morrison at 0800.”

Jesse groans. 

“Sorry.”

“Knew it was coming. I’m sure he’ll want to go over the expense report,” Jesse says. He suppresses a yawn, stretching instead. 

“I’ll see you bright and early, then,” Gabe says. “Don’t be late.”

Jesse blinks, then realizes that - yes, of course - they have to go their separate ways. He bobs his head. 

“Right. Don’t worry, boss,” Jesse says, flashing Gabe a tight smile. He heads for his quarters before he does anything stupid. Jesse got too comfortable while they were stranded. Here, there are many watchful eyes. Jesse would rather rot in prison than do anything that might endanger Gabe’s position here. He needs to be more careful - for Gabe’s sake. He can be strong enough for both of them, if he has to. 

Jesse’s quarters are small, but he’s one of the few Blackwatch members who has earned his right to a single bunk at the Swiss base - everyone else is doubled up. Jesse has been around long enough, proven his worth time and time again, that it only made sense he’d get his own bunk. It’s not something he’s ever really had before; with Deadlock, it was bare mattresses on motel room floors, if he was lucky, or sometimes an oil-stained sofa in the back of a garage. Now, with Blackwatch, Jesse has a place to call his own, more or less. When he’s in Switzerland, it’s his place to land. He’s made it home. His favorite hat hangs with his old, beat up serape on a hook on the door of his wardrobe. There’s a thick, wool blanket that used to belong to his mother folded at the foot of the bed. Nobody would call the room  _ neat _ , exactly - but everything has its place, and Jesse knows where to find anything he could be looking for. It’s not regulation, but then Jesse was never military, and he does get the benefit of some leeway. 

Jesse kicks off his boots once the door slides shut behind him. The scrubs that the Navy hospital gave him come off too, tossed in a corner for an eventual laundering. He pauses to glance in the mirror on the door of his wardrobe; the marks Gabe had sucked into his skin are gone, faded by the biotic field. Jesse looks away. He finds a clean pair of underwear - a real luxury by now - and crawls into bed between his crisp sheets. It's not a big bed by any means, but it still feels empty. Jesse shifts, tosses and turns. He can’t sleep. He pretends to chalk it up to having slept on the transport shuttle, and all that sleep he got in the hospital. He's only lying to himself, really. 

He misses Gabe. 

Which is, frankly, ridiculous. Gabe’s quarters are down a hallway or two, eminently close by. He just saw Gabe moments ago - they spent  _ days _ practically on top of each other, Jesse should be glad to have a bit of alone time. 

Jesse can't fool himself though. 

Something had shifted between them. What they had going into their assignment in Baja California Sur was nothing like what they had when they crossed the border again. Both of them had set up careful barriers between them, still wary of crossing the line, still protective of their hearts in the off chance that the other wasn't taking their attempt at a relationship seriously. Jesse hadn't wanted to get his hopes up; maybe this whole thing between him and Gabe was a passing dalliance, maybe Gabe did this with all his favorite recruits. It's stupid to think like that, even then - Jesse had been by Gabe’s side for years and he'd never seen Gabe extend any favors to anyone. He'd have noticed if Gabe paid extra attention to someone who wasn't him. It still seemed too good to be true, though, when Gabe finally kissed him back. Jesse had had his heart broken before. Once bitten, twice shy. 

But Gabe said he loves Jesse. 

That changes everything, doesn't it? What they have - it's not something that's going to fade away once one of them gets bored. They're committed. 

Jesse sits up in bed. It's useless to keep trying to sleep. He glances at the clock - 0437. Jesse climbs out of bed and finds a clean pair of sweats and zips up a hoodie. On bare feet, he pads into the hallway, his feet carrying him along before his mind has a chance to properly catch up. 

Moments later, Jesse finds himself in front of Gabe’s door. He hesitates. Then he knocks, holding his breath. 

Gabe opens the door almost immediately. He’s wearing his sweatpants low on his hips, his hair still damp from a shower. He doesn't look surprised to see Jesse - maybe relieved?

“Was wondering if you'd come by,” Gabe says, standing aside to let Jesse into his quarters. Jesse steps in and lets the door slide shut behind him. 

“I couldn't sleep.”

“Me either.”

“I didn't want to assume…” Jesse starts to say. Gabe reaches for Jesse haltingly, and ends up tugging him in by the pockets of his hoodie. Jesse lets him, stepping in close. 

“I know we…” Gabe trails off. He looks at Jesse, right in the eye, and he looks almost scared. Jesse raises a hand to cup Gabe’s cheek. 

“It feels different now,” Jesse says. Gabe bites his lip and nods. 

“It does.”

“I… missed you,” Jesse admits. He scans Gabe’s face, his heart beating in his throat. The corner of Gabe’s mouth twitches up. 

“I know the feeling.”

“I meant it when I said that I love you, Gabe,” Jesse says. He feels Gabe’s fingers tighten in the fabric of his hoodie, sees some of the tension go out of his shoulders. 

“You know I love you too, right Jesse?” Gabe asks, the quality of his voice going almost urgent. Jesse hesitates. Gabe drags Jesse somehow closer, reaching up to grip his shoulder. “I do - I love you. I'm not just saying that.”

Jesse crushes his mouth to Gabe’s because he doesn't know what else he can do. Gabe kisses him back hard, dragging him by the hoodie further back into his quarters. Jesse stumbles over his own feet, not wanting to pull away. He lets Gabe drag him onto the bed, falling forward over him. Gabe holds him close, clings to him. Jesse only pulls back when his lungs burn for want of oxygen. 

“Gabe…” Jesse says, then stops. What can he say? He searches Gabe’s face in the half-light of the room. Outside Gabe’s window, the sky is already beginning to lighten. 

“I know,” Gabe says quietly. He reaches up, tucks a strand of hair behind Jesse’s ear. 

“We can still…”

“We’re careful.” 

Jesse gives Gabe a pained look. Gabe kisses him again. 

“We have to be, Jesse,” Gabe says. Jesse clenches his fingers against Gabe’s side. 

“I don't want you to get in trouble,” Jesse says. “If anything happens -”

“We're not going to let it,” Gabe interrupts, firmly. “We can have this - each other. We deserve it.”

“We do,” Jesse says, but he sounds more uncertain than he means to. Gabe kisses him again. 

“We do,” Gabe says softly, against Jesse’s mouth. Still, Jesse worries. Gabe must sense it because he pulls away again, getting a look at Jesse’s face. He hesitates before he asks, “Unless - Do you want this?”

“Do I want this?” Jesse repeats dumbly. Gabe lets go of Jesse’s hoodie to gesture at himself. 

“Me - do you want me? It’s your choice, Jesse. I’m not going to… It’s your choice. To be together, to be -”

Jesse takes Gabe by both hands once he identifies the note of panic in Gabe’s voice. He knows it’s genuine - it flicks something on in his brain. 

“Hey,” Jesse says softly. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Gabe nods. Jesse kisses him lightly, gently. “I love you, Gabe. I want this. I want to be with you.”

Gabe breathes out and it feel like the weight that was hanging over them lifts suddenly. He pulls Jesse close, tucking his face into Jesse’s neck. 

“Love you too, Jesse. We’ll make it work.”

=-=-=

After the debrief with Morrison, Jesse and Gabe head to the mess hall for a late breakfast. They go their separate ways after filling their trays, Gabe going to sit with Reinhardt and Jesse heading towards Shiga’s table. Shiga raises his eyebrows at Jesse as he sits down across from him, looking pointedly past him at Gabe sitting with Reinhardt. 

“So, what, you get stranded in Mexico for a couple days and the honeymoon’s over?” Shiga asks, leaning across the table to speak. Jesse glances over his shoulder, following Shiga’s gaze. 

“What?”

“You and you-know-who, and I don’t mean Voldemort,” Shiga says. Jesse snorts into his coffee. 

“Nah. It’s good. We’re good,” Jesse says, setting his mug back down on the table. He’s smiling, big and open and more than a little gooey. Shiga lights up. 

“Really?” he asks. Jesse ducks his head. 

“Yeah,” Jesse says. He feels warm, from the tips of his toes to the top of his head. It’s a good feeling. 

“Christ, you’re completely smitten,” Shiga says, shaking his head fondly. “Well that’s good. I’m glad, Jesse.”

“Me too.”

Across the room, Gabe is uncharacteristically laughing along with Reinhardt’s jokes. Jesse’s pretty sure he can hear his laugh under Reinhardt’s booming one. It makes him smile just a little bit wider. 


End file.
